Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from El Salvador and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Boz Scaggs to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Move. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Freddie Wadling,
The Fall,
Lou Christie,
The Slackers,
The Litter,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Doors,
Jerry's Kids,
Albert Ayler,
Rosa Yemen,
Pussy Galore,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Aloha Tigers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Fania All-Stars,
X-102,
Warren Ellis,
PIL,
Cluster,
The Toasters,
The Last Poets,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fela Kuti,
X-Ray Spex,
Loose Ends,
The Leaves,
Second Layer,
Black Flag,
Pole,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Scion,
Curtis Mayfield,
Stiv Bators,
Surgeon,
Dark Day,
Steve Hackett,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Angry Samoans,
Minutemen,
Electric Light Orchestra,
In Retrospect,
Pulsallama,
Dual Sessions,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ronan,
Black Moon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Monolake,
Amon Düül,
The Moleskins,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Suicide,
Tommy Roe,
Erykah Badu,
The Skatalites,
Whodini,
Spoonie Gee,
Radio Birdman,
Joe Finger,
June Days,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.